Unexpected Consequences
by slytherinwonder
Summary: Basically grey Hermione/Harry first yr
1. Dark

_Dont own Hp nor am I JKR_

_just had a fun idea for a hp story_

_A child born in darkness; a foolish choice wrapped in the greater good. May lead to the darkest ages the world has yet to see. Stolen away in the black of night, the chill may freeze her heart forever. _

The seer rose from her chair by the power of mother magic herself and terrified her husband as the chillingly cold voice which was not his wives floated around the room.

_And yet, Mother magic has taken pity on the whole for one man's evil and given us a chance. Another half may complete them or destroy them. If the child is made whole, they'll rid the world of our evil but, If the child is destroyed, so will be life as you know it, for the darkest of all Lords and Ladies will rise from the ashes. _

The whites of his wife's eye shone through their kitchen as the ethereal voice gave it's warning through her, when the magic was finished the seer collapsed to the floor. Never to remember what she had uttered but her husband would never forget. A prophecy. He filed it secretly at the department of mysteries where it now laid, ten years later identified only by a little plaque that read.

'Prophecy given by; ?

Prophecy about; ?

Prophecy in reference to _A potential new dark Lord/Lady'_

Sirius Black, the man himself was an enigma. As the auror passed all the high security prisoners during his nightly rounds he couldn't help but shake his head at the man that Black had become. They'd been together in the academy, shared drinks over victories and tears over losses. The auror had once watched Sirius Black go spell for spell against his cousin, Bellatrix Black and now their cells shared a wall.

It was too hard to understand the change, that was why most didn't try. How could the man who had been the best man at the Potters wedding, had been James' best friend sell them out to the dark lord he had fought against for years. Maybe it was the grief at losing his wife and daughter all in one night, but it didn't explain the betrayal over a year later. Oh well, the auror mused to himself must be the Black Insanity.

Meanwhile inside that dingy dark cell, Sirius imagined a different world, a different life. It was all he could do now, think of what could have been. He still remembered laying beautiful little Lyra into her bassinet that night, charming the ceiling above his new babe to show the constellation he loved most, hers. Remembered kissing his wife goodbye, urgently as the aurors had called, there was an attack on Diagon Alley, they had lost Fabian and Gideon that day. They needed the manpower and Sirius had been fresh out of the academy eager to fight, and now with a cause to fight for, protecting his girls.

What he tried to forget, even as the dementors ran their ghostly hands over his cell door and dragged his worst, darkest memories forward was the day that followed the fight. He had apparated out of the Alley with James, they had clutched at each other before apparating to Rowena's Forest where his quaint little cottage sat. Though they had just lost men they loved and respected Sirius, remembered brimming with pride and happiness at the prospect of introducing his best friend to his little bundle of joy. As they walked across the village bordering the forest, the cottage had come into view and Sirius had smiled. He had turned to look at James before voicing his thoughts," Actually James, I was wondering if you would be Lyra's god-" Sirius remembered falling to his knees after that, in the time he had turned to his friend while opening the door the sight greeting him past the door had stolen the words out of his mouth. And, Sirius thought bitterly now, the love out of his heart.

That was because greeting them past the doorway, was not his wife or at least not how Sirius wanted to remember her, because the sight was grotesque. His wife laid on their kitchen table as if crucified there, and he did not think that there was a place in the kitchen that blood did not touch, Her eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling and her creamy tan skin was now pale as ice as if all the light had left her, and Sirius thought darkly to himself that all the light in his life had left him that day too. The moments that past was a blur to Sirius's memories, remembering James' hand on his shoulder, remembering little Lyra and racing to the nursery, seeing more blood but no child. After that it had been like his brain had stopped working, the buzzing in his ear only increased when the Aurors James had called had showed up, asked questions as the buzz grew even louder until it was almost deafening.

They had taken his wife, the love of his life to St. Mungos morgue. Her cause of death had been the killing curse but the moments before the curse had not been quick nor kind. Torture. Ten years later, Sirius still sucked in a breath of shock at the treatment of the love of his life. The blood in the nursery had been confirmed as little Lyra's with diagnostic spells cast by a healer, who had told him the news with tears in her eyes that such a loss of blood in a child her size was a death sentence.

Sirius let the tears drip down his face and thought of the one person he blamed more than himself.

Dumbledore.

Sirius and James had gone to their old headmaster, gotten advice on their homes wards and still that hadn't been enough, like Albus had said it would be. In fact, the old man, his eyes twinkling had told Sirius it was more than enough. Sirius had been in Azkaban for maybe seven months when he had learned that Dumbledore had personally vouched for Snivellus Snape and helped the death eater escape a prison sentence but had not even offered a hand of support to Sirius when he had been thrown in Azkaban for crimes he did not commit.


	2. Chapter 2

· Chapter 2

So basically, my Hermione idea in this is like brainchild prodigy because I want to see her flip the script on the magical community. She's still a child but J

Do not own HP nor am I JKR

Hermione Granger did not balk. She didn't pause when told three years ago, that her grandfather had died. She had only gripped her mother's hand and stood strong at the funeral because she figured someone had to be strong even if it was only her seven-year-old self. Only shed tears, in private away from the world so no one saw her crack.

A year and a half ago, Hermione and her mother had been in an automotive accident and Hermione didn't miss a beat when she had overheard her mother crying in the ambulance that she didn't know Hermione blood type because she was _adopted_. Had never even taken a moment to ask her mother about it later, she just filed the information away for later and justified to herself that at least her parents had wanted her.

Maybe this type of emotional growth had stemmed from her almost genius-level intelligence but more realistically it was most likely due to the scorn she had received at the hands of her peers from a young age. Her success in her studies and her aversion to 'playing' had brought bullying to the playgrounds. The bullying had dramatically decreased the more Hermione succeeded for two reasons, one being that the larger the age difference the less likely they were to bully her. Sixteen-year-old didn't seem to care that a nine-year-old was sat in the front of their classes and second being that Hermione was most of her teacher's 'golden child' and no one wanted to mess with the favorite.

Right now, though, she was balking

A witch, A _WITCH_ was sat in her sunroom, on her mother's divan and sipping a cup of tea. All the while she was wearing a set of 'robes' that looked as though the woman stepped out of a 16th century play. Hermione looked over at her parents who seemed to be attempting to swallow the bomb that had just been exploded in their front room, her mother's fingers were white and gripped tightly on her teacup.

She needed a moment, one to analyze this devasting shift of her life. However, she also needed more information. Hermione may not have been raised by Nan Granger, but she knew the religious woman would not approve of a witch in the family. Hermione paused in thought while the elder witch examined her, she assimilated some of the information that had already been given.

She was a witch, that could make sense if Hermione thought logically. There had to be a reason why when Hermione reached for books on shelved too tall for her, they seemed to end up in her hand. It also explained why Hermione's first-grade bully had broken her ankle after ripping Hermione's book during recess as the bully had run away it seemed like a root had grown out of the ground and wrapped itself around the bully's ankle. Yes, Hermione thought magic could explain that much better than science or theory.

Hermione could also accept that not all witches or wizards were inherently evil, she certainly didn't feel evil. Earlier she had raised the point of which burnings to the 'Professor McGonagall' and her Grandmothers beliefs on the subject and she was pacified with the answer. Apparently magic was about intent and if you didn't intend something to be dark then you weren't dark yourself. That point didn't make much sense to the young prodigy, but she surged forward in her thoughts. As well the witch burnings were explained away, muggles- which were what witches and wizards called non-magical people were afraid of what they could not explain. Most witches survived the witch trials with spells and those who didn't were either 'muggles' or had possibly lost their wands. That made sense to Hermione as well, as she processed the information she could sense the witches eyes on her, Minerva had the strangest look on her face almost one of deja vu as though Minerva too was processing something and from the grief in her eyes, it couldn't have been nice.

Minerva was, in fact, processing information, but this young girl reminded her of one who had entered Hogwarts almost two decades ago as another young muggle-born. Both had the flaming look in their eyes that indicated a thirst for knowledge and the thought of Lily Potter almost brought tears to her eyes, this year of students would be hard for Minerva she knew it, with Lily's son entering Hogwarts and this little girl who already reminded her so much of one of her favorite students. Minerva was shaking out of her reminiscing when Hermione asked her a thought-provoking question.

"Ms. McGonagall, I'm sorry but what could _Hogwarts_ possibly offer me that Oxford or Cambridge won't surpass when I attend next fall?"

The older lady's jaw had seemingly unhinged at this, she was used to children being starstruck by the concept of a life of magic just like Lily had been especially after living in the muggle world for so long. Minerva quickly recovered and stared pensively at the girl, who unruly curls and tanned skin which could cause a person to mistake her for a carefree child but it was her eyes that told Minerva that Hermione was not this type of child. Those eyes were not wide with curiosity but narrowed and mistrusting but behind them, she could see that thirst for knowledge.

"Well, Miss. Granger, simply put those schools cannot teach you anything of Magic and Magic is as much a part of you as your hair or your knowledge. Without proper education, Magic is dangerous."

Minerva took a look around the room seeing the Grangers pale at the mention of their daughter in danger. The young witch's head nodded in thought and she quickly filed this progress away in her head, almost immediately decided that this was going to be a promising witch to teach.

Hermione, however, was planning; it wasn't every day your life's plans got put through the garbage disposal. She snuck a glance to her father guiltily, they had been planning her future together since Dan had realized his daughter was gifted. He had been in her corner when she had wanted advanced placement, won education board hearings because the school didn't want a 10-year-old in their year 12 classes. He had cried happy tears when she said she wanted to be a doctor like her parents, just not dental. Dan and his wife had even been playfully bribing Hermione the past three months to go to their alumna maters after she had gotten early admissions from both and now it was all gone. Magic, that was the wrench in her side.

"Right, so forgive my ignorance but does Hogwarts not start in September? Because we're already halfway through the month and I don't want to be behind"

Hermione thought she was making a great point, how was she supposed to make up for two weeks of totally unknown curriculum on her own? However, this great point was quickly batted away when the older witch flatly told Hermione that she would not be attending Hogwarts this September, because the girl had turned eleven AFTER September 1st. So, she would be attending the magic school the next fall, which gave Hermione the year to finish her A-levels but something about this to Hermione made her feel like she was being shorted, so she decided she needed to weasel even more information out.

A quick glance to her parents showed them still to shocked to contribute to the conversation. Hermione guessed they were trying to understand how moments early the witch had turned herself into a cat and then back again which made no sense to either of the two mature academics. As well, the new bouquet of roses on the table was a shock to the system as they had sprouted out of the tip of a piece of wood.

"So, you must do many of these? I'm sure all new students are shocked to learn they're magical." Hermione needled this out wanting a get a feel for the size of the school and right on queue Minerva shifted in her chair.

"Well no, many of the students already know of magic from their parents. We only do these at home letter deliveries for muggle-born students" Minerva explained, and she saw Hermione's lips purse in thought.

"So, I'll be attending a school where I'll be almost a year older than the students in 'first year' _yet_ eleven years of magical knowledge behind the majority of them?"

Minerva grimaced then nodded.

Minerva had often thought of the unfair advantages purebloods and even half-bloods had going into first year. They knew everything their parents would teach them, including culture and heritage as well as giving some of them a jump on the curriculum. Minerva herself had mentioned this to Albus many times throughout the year but had been brushed off and told that the notification of muggle-borns on their eleventh birthday was 'tradition'.

"No" Hermione spoke, voice devoid of any emotion. Although it may have been her ego talking, she simply would not do something when there weren't even any materials for her to work towards becoming one of the best.

"No?" Minerva was gobsmacked she had never had a student tell her no, she trudged on anyway, "May I ask why not?"

"How can I be expected to pick up my life and change it, when there's not even any supplemental reading I could do this year to catch myself up from this unfair disadvantage?"

Minerva pondered the question and understood it almost immediately. She could lure the child in with knowledge and she knew exactly where she could get it. There were a few obstacles, but the best wins had struggles first.

"Well, you could pick up your booklist early from Diagon Alley? However, in September the anti muggle wards go back up so you would have to wait until I have a free weekend to take you?"

Minerva was going out on a limb here, she wasn't supposed to officially introduce the muggle-born to the wizarding world until August, before they went on the Hogwarts Express, but the girl had a mind like Lily so she couldn't help having a soft spot for her and she understood where the witch was coming from.

"I can go alone"

Hermione spoke quickly, and confidently, she was already independent and didn't need anyone to take her anywhere. Except for her mother who took her to her ballet lessons.

"I'm sure your parents wouldn't allow you to go into London alone, no I can take you the next weekend I have free."

Minerva knew she had to be firm or else this the girl would just steamroll her way into Diagon alley herself.

"I already go to London alone at least once a fortnight to get new books from the London Library."


	3. Chapter 3

I AM NOT JK ROWLING

September in Britain had proven to be chilly, the cold air swirled around a young witch as she hurried to her bus stop. Thinking very hard about what the past few weeks had brought to her uncomplicated life, the disappointment of her parents for one. . Knowing there was a whole world out there that she knew nothing about. The knowledge that she would no longer attend either for their colleges for at least seven more years made Hermione leap for alternatives before she finally found one.

Hermione would do summer semesters at one of the colleges, successfully stroking the fire of her thirst for knowledge while satisfying her parents. Crisis averted; she had waited patiently for this letter which came from an… Owl. Looking down at the parchment currently grasped in her hands, she admired the fine strokes of some type of pen and the thick expensive quality of the parchment. Written on the letter, were the instructions from Professor McGonagall on how to access Diagon Alley and her early access to the year's booklist.

Paying fierce attention to the route her bus was taking, a left on Birmingham and then the blurred building while tuning out the boisterous voices of the business men on their ways to work and the frayed look in a mothers eye as she tried to get her baby to stop fussing. Instead she watched as the bus went through the city, saw the bus pass her usual stop for the library and eventually drive into a seedier part of the town. She looked at the worn gray building and the patches on the little boys' trousers as they played on the sidewalks. Continuously double checking her route with the letter, although she didn't need too as it had been memorized as soon as it had arrived.

Charring Cross Road, she saw the street sign up ahead and pulled the rope indicating her desire to stop. As she walked to the front of the bus, the driver reached out with a hesitant look on his face, "Are you sure this is your spot little miss?" He asked kindly and Hermione smiled in turn before giving a nod and stepping off the bus. The street was alive in every sense of the word. The shops were bustling with mothers, who had given up trying to tame their unruly children letting them play in the street and shouting out ever so often. Laughter filled the air and Hermione began her walk to the Leaky Cauldron.

The Letter had warned her no muggles could see the pub, so it was useless asking them for help. Instead she focused on the street, finding three vacated spaces before reminding herself she was a witch. The pub would appear to her and she refocused instead paying attention to the muggles and the shops they were staying away from, it took a moment before she found it, a dingy shop which the muggles seemed to cross the street instead of passing it. She nodded to herself in affirmative 'that must be the spot' and she started to walk, ignoring the pedestrians she shared the sidewalk with. It wasn't long before she was stood right in front of the pub though it was dingy, but she could almost feel the life in it, or maybe that was the magic. When she entered however she was disappointed to find no one there with the exception of the barkeep.

The pub inside, was frankly just as dingy as the outside but it felt like she was coming home to something she had never known. The seats and tables looked well used and well loved, a small smile on her lips she squared her shoulders and walked up to the bar keep not allowing momentary insecurities to dash her spirit.

She didn't need to look down at the letter for this part, for she had memorized it a week ago. A code, a real spy like code for her to tell the barkeep whos' name was apparently Tom. She was right next to the man, but he didn't seem to see her over the bar top as he whistled a tune to himself and shined glasses.

"Hello."

Hermione spoke confidently even if she didn't feel confident in this new world but felt a sharp sense of embarrassment as she frightened the barkeep into dropping the glass and she watched, her eyes widening in horror as it crashed to the floor and shattered.

"I'm so sorry!" Hermione exclaimed worriedly, raising her hands to her mouth. Her mother hadn't raised her to be rude, so she was already reaching into her purse to get money to pay for the glass as the accident was partially her fault. Instead though Tom laughed and pulled a wand out of his back pocket, quickly uttering the phrase "Reparo" and Hermione watched happily as the glass knit itself together through magic.

"It's no problem lass, I'm Tom how can I help you?"

Tom peered at the girl and immediately Hermione felt unsure of herself, steeling herself to not stutter her words she got her phrase out.

"The Cat wishes for my entrance?" Hermione tone got higher as she finished, really it was a silly thing to say and he might not even know what she was talking about.

Tom barked out another laugh and quickly replied to her, " Right, so your Minerva's' new prodigy, right this way." Tom looked back at the girl following him and felt a flash of familiarity in his chest before shaking his head. He couldn't possibly recognize her; she was just a new eager muggleborn that Minerva had already expressed interest in.

Quickly the wizard hobbled to the back of the pub while Hermione followed hesitantly, running through situations and the probabilities in her head. Statistically the odds that he would kill her were low, but never zero. Her chest tightened as she examined the man leading her to a brick wall. He was tall but old, seemingly cheery she reaffirmed herself that the Professor wouldn't put her in harm's way.

The brick wall seemed to hum with magic and responded to the touch of Toms wand by moving interictally to reveal a doorway leading into Diagon alley, which was alive and bustling with wizards and witches strolling around the street. Some held young children who weren't yet old enough for Hogwarts and others dragged trunks and bags behind them as they went from shop to shop. It truly seemed to Hermione that she was stepping into another world, one which was about a hundred years in the past according to fashion standards.

She gave Tom her quick thanks and a smile before walking quickly into the alley, taking the time to admire the different shops and how they presented their fares. She was on a mission to find a 'Gringotts' which was supposedly the wizarding bank for all witches and wizards of Britain. Her eyes came across a large marble store, with beautifully carved gargoyles statues, that seemed to move. Hermione blinked, that couldn't be right. Regardless the girl noticed the large words exclaiming this building to be the Gringotts she was looking for.

As Hermione walked with a purpose, she couldn't help but notice the sneers some people were throwing at her. Looking objectively at these people with their archaic clothing, she knew they were considered the higher society citizens of the Wizarding World, their robes looked expensive and they were well put together. She glanced down quickly at her own clothes with a small undetectable grimace, clearly, she stuck out like a sore thumb in her muggle clothing. Not allowing the sneers to perturb her, she ventured into Gringotts and was immediately astounded, these people weren't _human._ Professor McGonagall had never told her of that!

Hermione though, as she had always told herself didn't balk, she kept a straight face for the sneers and would do the same for these humanoid people.

She observed a bank teller with a leathery face and pointed teeth grin at his companion. They were only about three feet tall, but Hermione shuddered at the grin she witnessed as the teeth gleamed menacingly. The small girl walked cautiously up to a bank teller, not allowing herself to be afraid or to seem less than in this new world. The bank teller didn't smile at her and she thanked him in her thoughts, before introducing herself.

"Hello, I'm Hermione Granger. I was sent here to inquire about converting my money and potentially opening an account, could I speak with an account manager please?"

For all Hermione's genius, she was not accustomed to this world nor the world of financial banking. So, the night before her father had taught her as much as he could about banking to ensure she wouldn't be taken advantage of for her young age. When her father had told her businessmen were cutthroat, she hadn't expected them to look as if they could actually do it. Instead, the teller looked at her curiously as if he was examining his prey before he gave a small grin with no teeth.

This goblin was surprised, for the second time in his twenty-five years working the front desk of the Goblin Nation a witch had greeted him, introduced herself and politely asked for help. The last time had been with a young muggleborn witch, Griphook could tell this was another muggleborn almost immediately from her clothing and demeanour. Though the girl was steely and confident, he could see the hesitance in her eyes and smiled to himself. She would have been a great goblin he thought, before proceeding to hop of his chair without a word and leave.

Hermione watched the teller leave with confusion and a little bit of fear, had she unknowingly offended this _thing_? Minutes passed slowly before the teller returned, with another who looked young but just as dangerous.

"This is Gornuk, he'll be your account manager." The teller told her, and she nodded pleased that she hadn't offended a whole species.

"Thank you…?" Hermione trailed off hoping to get her original tellers name, to which the goblin smiled again and supplied her with the name Griphook.

"Thank you Griphook!" Hermione smiled, though not with her teeth afraid she may make a faux pau in this culture. She followed the new teller, Gornuk to an office which displayed his name and took the seat which was offered.

"So, I'm told you want to open an account. Why?" The small goblin steepled his fingers looking menacingly from his chair.

"Well Sir, I was only told I was a witch two weeks ago!" Hermione explained calmly but her anger shone through her eyes she continued, "If the wizarding world expects me to do schooling here for seven years, I need to get ahead so I'm not woefully behind my classmates who have known magic their whole lives! Part of becoming prepared would be to open an account here so that I can access funds and spend it in the wizarding world."

The goblin chuckled looking at this tiny waif of a girl, she would do great things he was sure. Indignation at the wizarding world at only eleven, he was sure that at twelve she would probably be trying to help plan the next Goblin Rebellion if that anger didn't tame itself out.

"That won't be a problem then, as a muggleborn you are required to take an Inheritance test before we are allowed to open an account for you, _Ministry Bureaucracy _ you understand."

The girl nodded sharply as Gornuk removed a parchment from his desk along with a long spindly needle.

"The test just needs a drop of your blood."

Hermione nodded again and extended her hand towards the spindle Gornuk was holding, he quickly pricked her finger and allowed her blood to drop onto the parchment. Hermione ripped her hand back at the pain but noticed the cut quickly healed on its own and looked down at the parchment which was starting to swirl in what looked to be red ink, truly she was as curious as the teller to find out who her real parents were.

Soon the parchment was done swirling but before she could look at the names of her biological parents, the goblin ripped the parchment off the table and was gone. Hermione mused that disappearing without explanation must be the norm in this species culture but still she sat worried waiting for the goblin to return again. Indeed, the goblin had dashed off.

However, he was currently running towards his boss's boss's office, there was no way that this parchment held the truth. He slammed into the door and spoke in their native tongue, "_King Ragnok, either our Inheritance tests are broken, or we have a dead girl in my office."_

The head goblin looked up sharply, eyes slanted in annoyance at the young goblin barging into his office without an appointment specially to degrade their magic.

"_Why are you disturbing me with this nonsense, you know they are accurate." _He spoke harshly in their native tongue, already imagining demoting this goblin to Dragon Dung duties.

"_If they are, your presence is needed in my office. We seem to have a dead pureblood who believes she is a muggleborn."_

_"__Who?"_

_"__The missing Black child"_

Ragnok immediately stood, striding to the young goblin's office, which contained a small witch of Hogwarts age. He stood regally knowing the witch was intimidated, using his magic to sense what he already knew to be true. She was in fact the missing Black baby.

Ragnok slide into Gornuks chair and looked intently at the young witch, yes beneath the glamours he could faintly see Marlene's cheekbones and Sirius's eyes. Though it looked like whoever had been trying to hide her identity had not been able to dull the wild magic of a Black girls' curls. He observed her for a few minutes noticing the girl stand up straighter and place her arms on her knees to avoid fidgeting.

"It appears as though, Miss Hermione you came for a vault but ran yourself into the unknown instead."

Hermione brow furrowed as she tried to make sense of his words, she hadn't intended to run herself into any sort of trouble.

"I'm sorry sir, I'm not quite sure what you mean. Does this have anything to do with my test? Am I related to any wizards; I am adopted"?

"Not adopted, stolen"

"My Parents never stole me sir"

"No, not them. A wizard stole you; I suppose they gave you to muggles instead of killing you."

Hermione stared, gears whirring in her head as this goblin stared unnervingly into her soul.

"Who are my parents?"

The goblin silently slides the parchment across the desk towards the young witch, she grasped it quickly reading her name first. Lyra Hermione Black? No that couldn't be right her name wasn't Lyra, she glanced up questioningly, but the goblin gave a motion to continue. Her eyes travelled up the parchment to her parents. First, her mother's side. She read the name slowly, Marlene Black nee McKinnon, there was her birth year and … her death year. Hermione raised a hand to her mouth willing herself not to cry. Her mother was dead. Sure, she didn't remember the woman, but she was still her biological mother. She looked up further into her mother's family line and noted with sorrow her maternal grandparents' death and how very few McKinnon's were left. Her eyes shifted to her Father, Sirius Black a birth year and no death year was a good sign. She noted her paternal grandparents' death and an uncle as well.

"Where's my father?"

"Azkaban."

"Where is that?"

"Prison"

Hermione stifled a gasp, as the goblins unnerving stare continued to look almost within her. She had a criminal father and a dead mother, honestly part of her wished she had never come upon this information she should have just converted her money and left.

" We have reason to believe your father is innocent, but with the current Head of House Black there has been no effort to get him out of Azkaban."

"Why is he in Azkaban Sir?"

"For the alleged murder of 13 muggles and his best friend, Peter Pettigrew."

Hermione nodded, and asked as many questions as she could to get a full understanding of the issue. Finding out that they hadn't even given her father a trial, only sentenced him without taking history of his wand and worst of all, believing he was a traitor to the 'light side' despite lack of evidence. The goblin explained all her past, amused at this young girl need for knowledge and explanations to make sense of situations before providing options for her to take. The first step was big, to contact her granduncle, the current head of House Black. She contracted Gringotts to call him in on emergency purposes, stating bank vault issues and not a word of her existence.

Cygnus Black was not having a good day, the Wizengamot was having issues with the ICW because two idiots decided to partake in muggle baiting while on a trip to France. He frustratingly rubbed a hand down his face as he poured himself a swirl of fire whiskey. Honestly, it was as though their world was failing.

Just as the weathered man moved to sit back in his office, a forest green letter appeared on his desk. Another groan came from his lips as he recognized the stationary, what could those goblins want now? From the deep hue of the letter, he knew it was serious and opened it at once.

An emergency, his day could not get any worse. His fire whiskey abandoned at his desk, he pulled his robe off the rack with ease and with a turn was gone. Popping to the designated apparition location in Diagon Alley, he swaggered to Gringotts shooting glares at anyone who dared cross his path.

Glaring down at the goblins, without stating his need they led him into a regal looking office. Fancy Chinese wood and high-backed chairs made him alert to the fact this was a higher goblin he was about to speak with.

Ragnok walked through another set of doors after Cygnus and gestured for the man to sit. He sat, straight and crossed a leg lazily.

"What emergency is so serious you have summoned me here?" Cygnus spoke, his voice dripping with malice.

Ragnok again gestured at the door he had previously entered through and it slowly opened revealing a young girl. A young muggle girl. Who had frizzy hair and buck teeth and was stood imperviously before him?

"The lost Black"

The world stopped. Cygnus made no move to speak so the Goblin passed him the inheritance test the girl had taken previously. He eyed it before shaking his head.

"There's no way, look at her" The girls' eyes squinted at the comment and he could see her hands clench, but there was no way this mousy girl was a Black. It was ludicrous to even suggest.

"Yes, we believe there have been blocks placed and glamours as well." Ragnok replied smoothly and with reason. Cygnus considered the possibilities and shot his wand at the girl lazily, the results flowed through his wand instantly. Multiple glamours along with ability power blocks, he knew only one man who had the power and knowledge to perform those so successfully. His hand shook in anger, Dumbledore. That man would die for this crime on his family.

"Little Girl, why have you requested this meeting?"

"Why haven't you moved for a trial for my father." Hermione spoke in her best, serious voice reserved for talking to parents and teachers.

"He's been disowned, his misfortune is his own issue" Cygnus spoke smoothly but began to run probabilities in his hand. Once Sirius learned the truth of his master, Dumbledore perhaps he would change his ways and come back to the House of Black without him their paternal line would die.

"But he may be innocent!"

"perhaps"

"Fine, if you're not willing to help, you can leave I'll write the Wizengamot myself, and contact my mother's sister. I was told the Blacks are the most influential family, clearly that is not the case as two of our own sits behind bars. One innocent and one insane"

The old man clenched his jaw at the insinuation that he was not all powerful and stared down at his hand. Making a fist and releasing it, he prepared his words carefully.

"Who do you think you are little girl?"

Hermione stood taller and answered confidently, "I am a witch, who has only recently found out her heritage, I was left to rot for eleven years because you wizards think you're better than 'muggleborns'. All the while I find out I was actually stolen as a child and my birth father is sitting behind bars for a crime he didn't commit. How am I supposed to be the best, when I'm starting eleven years too late, I will show all of the wizarding world that I am better than them, in every way"

The ambition, Cygnus could appreciate it and looked at the girl as a new Black to mold. Clearly, he hadn't done well with his own spawn, his oldest marrying a muggle, his middle in jail and his youngest marrying an idiot. This one though, she had the drive he had as a child, yes, this one could be made great.

"I will file a motion for the Wizengamot conditionally, if you do not agree to my conditions I will leave and leave Sirius to rot."

The girl nodded and sat in the chair next to him waving him to continue with his list of conditions.

"I will reinstate Sirius back into House of Black for you, if you agree. You must be outfitted by my seamstress for wizarding grab, no child of House Black will be caught wearing that. You must come to my manor for etiquette lessons and tutoring, you must have those glamours and blocks removed, and I will personally teach you our family history. You must be introduced to the family with a formal ball"

Hermione pondered for a second and nodded, putting out her hand for a deal. The older man nearly chuckled at her but instead put out his hand as well.


End file.
